


Moonage Daydream

by fanfoolishness (LoonyLupin), LoonyLupin



Series: A Pocketful of Eezo: Xia Shepard x Tali'Zorah vas Normandy [6]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Karaoke, Mass Effect 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 23:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11279097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/fanfoolishness, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/LoonyLupin
Summary: The long-awaited first date between Commander Xia Shepard and Tali'Zorah vas Neema, straight out of a moonage daydream.





	Moonage Daydream

“So,” said Tali.

“So,” said Shepard.

Tali wasn’t sure how quickly humans were supposed to drink alcohol.  She rather suspected that the frequent sips Shepard took of his drink were due to nerves more than anything else.  Then again, she thought, tapping her foot against the ground, she was nervous too.

—

He’d asked her first, but it had only been barely.  She’d thought out the scenarios a hundred times, practiced clever lines in her head that would have him both laughing and intrigued, impressed at her wit and intelligence.  She had only been biding her time, hoping to catch him in the mess or in the engine core without anyone else around.  Instead he’d startled her one night by getting on the elevator with her.  Lost in thought, she hadn’t been prepared.  She cursed herself for not practicing more.

“Off on a secret mission?” he asked.

“What?  No, just heading back to engineering for some late night repairs,” she said sheepishly, kicking herself.

“Well, I’ve been wondering something.  Do you _want_ to go on a secret mission?” Shepard asked, grinning.  He looked calm, but she caught a glimpse of his fingers, twitchily curling up into his palms, and she wondered.  “With me?”

She froze, her arms crossed over her chest as nonchalantly as she could manage.  It was not nonchalant at all.  Her elbows stuck out at ridiculous angles.       “What… did you have in mind?” she replied, voice strangled with sudden terrified delight.  Did he mean what she thought –

“Something like ah, uh, a date,” he said, and he stuck his hands behind his back and balanced on the balls of his feet and beamed.

* * *

The date took a few days to set up.  

First there was the issue of spaceflight.  Even the SR-2 took a little time to traverse the vastness of space.  Then there was the issue of saving humanity and by extension the galaxy from the Collectors, little by little.   There were still missions to be done, lives to save, and they did what they needed to; but Tali did have to admit she was a little distracted.

There was an entire week before their date on Illium, a week of elbows brushing in the corridors, of Tali teasing him to reveal where he planned to take them (she failed), of Shepard bringing her tea down in engineering despite the obvious glee in Gabby’s eyes (and the equally obvious obliviousness in Ken’s).  

Somehow, everyone knew about their plan.  Kasumi congratulated Tali in the mess, uncloaking after stealing a pack of seaweed snacks to give her a high five.  Garrus raised a faceplate over his eye an inch or two in an expression of _well, well, well._  Joker just laughed for a good five minutes at them before wiping his eyes and telling them to break a leg, except not to because breaking legs actually sucked.

By the time she actually found herself waiting at the shuttle bay for Shepard, she was almost relieved to get it over with, hoping at least the gossip would die down.  Dr. Chakwas had reminded them both just an hour ago to stick to dextro and levo foods respectively even if the other’s appetizer looked _really, really_ good.  “Yes, Mom,” drawled Shepard, while Tali rolled her eyes in embarrassment.  Dr. Chakwas simply looked proud of both of them.

Tali waited patiently by the hangar doors, wondering what was taking him so long.  When he rounded the corner she realized what had held him up.  He wasn’t wearing Cerberus fatigues, or relaxed civilian clothes.  She wasn’t totally aware of the different meanings of human fashion, given the rarity with which quarians changed components of their suits, but she knew a date outfit when she saw one.  

Shepard looked bizarre and yet extremely handsome in a close-fitting black suit with striking white trim, cutting a sleek silhouette as he made his way toward her.  He fiddled with buttons around the ends of his sleeves, clearly not used to what he was wearing.  

“You look different,” said Tali haltingly.

“Is it terrible?” Shepard asked, plucking at the front collar of his jacket, trying to get it to lay flat.

“You look… very handsome,” Tali managed, nudging him with an elbow, trying to contain the giddiness that threatened to overwhelm her.  “It’s a good look for you.”

Shepard’s ears pinkened.  “Thanks,” he said.  “Uh – shall we?”

“Yes,” said Tali, glad for once that he could not see the enormous grin spreading over her face.  “We shall.”

* * *

Now they sat across from each other in a fancy booth in a Nos Astra bar, garish neon reflecting off of Shepard’s cheeks and close-shaved head, lights twinkling in the curves of their glasses.  The noise level was similar to that in a quarian ship, with conversations humming beneath the dull throb of the sinuous background music.  It was loud enough they had to lean forward to hear each other.  Well, technically, Tali could have just turned up the volume in her helmet with a keyed command to her omni-tool and set a filter for the background noise, but she liked the way Shepard leaned forward to talk, liked the way she had an excuse to look at him in detail; how his lips pursed, pink and a little plump, between words; how his hazel eyes twinkled beneath the lights; how his fingers curled around his drink, the new scars and calluses whitening when he lifted the glass.

She hoped, if she ever showed him what was beneath the suit, that he’d look at her the same way.  Something about the smile playing about his lips told her that was a distinct possibility, and she swallowed, pleased and anxious both.

“So what do people talk about on dates, anyway?” Shepard asked.  

“I thought you knew!  This was your idea,” Tali pointed out.  “But I must be honest.  I was planning on asking you for a date myself.  You simply happened to beat me to it.”

Shepard laughed, looking surprised, and took another drink.  “Really, now?”

“Obviously you were not the only interested party,” Tali explained.  “I had plans.  Ideas.  I _practiced_ , Shepard.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did!  In engineering sometimes.  I’d just turn off the speaker in my helmet and try it out.”

Shepard showed his teeth, pulling his lips to the side and staring at something above her head.  “Well… I did too.  A few times.  Maybe more than a few.  EDI might have heard me.   … EDI definitely heard me.”

She took another sip of her drink through its narrow straw, which she had flash-sterilized earlier.  She tried not to giggle.  “It did seem uncharacteristically… smooth of you.”

“Oh, don’t, you’ll hurt my feelings,” he said, but his eyes were warm.  “Listen, I’m glad that all the practice paid off.  I’d been trying to tell myself I was imagining things, that I was just trying to distract myself from… everything…”  For a moment he looked pensive, and she imagined the list for him: Cerberus, resurrection, his old team scattered to the winds, a grave new threat.  “Even back when we were chasing Saren, it seemed like there was something between us, didn’t it?  I wasn’t sure at first.  Didn’t want to overstep.  But you always grounded me, Tali, you’ve been there for me through all of it.  And I couldn’t pretend anymore that you weren’t important to me.”

She reached out, laying a hesitant hand on his.  They’d shaken hands before, lingering sometimes longer than was needed, but never had she twined her fingers together between his, or felt the weight of his touch through her glove with the certain knowledge that it _meant_ something.  She savored it now.  It felt damn good.

“Shepard,” she said softly.  “I don’t know what to say.  In a good way.”

“That’s all right,” he said.  “I’m just enjoying being here with you.”  He leaned in a little closer.  Their foreheads nearly touched.

“It’s funny,” Tali mused.  “I’d heard terrible things about humans back on the flotilla.  That they were rude.  Xenophobic.  …smelly.”  

“I say these nice things to you, and you come back with ‘humans are smelly’?  You really know how to sweet talk a guy,” said Shepard blithely.

She squeezed his hand, hard.  “I wasn’t done yet!” she insisted.  

He tried, unsuccessfully, not to smirk, and she took another drink.  She felt very pleasant; buzzy but not detached, warm and suffused with a gentle happiness.  “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, I had heard these things on the flotilla.  When I met you I did not know what to think.  You helped me, and you shook my hand, and I didn’t really know the custom.  But I liked the way your hand felt.  Solid.  Sure.”  She shook her head.  “I tried to tell myself it was just a _shar vas’yyan_.  It’s what we call it when a young person has a – you would call it a crush? – on their captain.  It is very common, with someone you look up to; almost everyone has those feelings now and then, but you do not act on them.”  

“I know what you mean,” said Shepard.  “It happens to humans, too.  When someone’s like a mentor to you, it can get easy to blur the lines.  My mentor in the N7 program had more than one recruit who was interested.”

“But this is more than that,” said Tali.  It was important to her that he understand.  “You are my friend, Shepard.  I think I know you now much more than I did then.  And I know I care about you, in a way I haven’t before for anyone.”  She touched her helmet to his forehead, sighing.  “This is the part in the vids where it would get terribly romantic, and the couple would kiss each other passionately.  I wish I could.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t,” he whispered, and she opened her eyes in time to see him raising her hand to his lips, pressing a firm kiss against the back of her hand.  He held it there for a moment, cradled in his own, and he closed his eyes as if to savor it.  

She reached up with her other hand to trace the contour of his cheek, her thumb brushing across his skin and coming to rest along his jawline.  She took a deep, deep breath.   _Keelah_.  Even through the gloves, the contact had her trembling.

He opened his eyes, smiling a little.  “I know we have to be careful because of your immune system, Tali.  But I don’t ever want you to feel bad about it.  You’re the woman I fel– I care about, and that includes the fact you’re a quarian.  We’ll figure things out.   And in the meantime, holding your hand?  You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to do that during our talks in engineering.”

“Me toooo,” Tali crowed, pulling her hand away from his face to add it on top of his.  “All right, Shepard, if you insist on continuing to be dashing and wonderful and saying all the right things… I will believe you.”

“Good,” he chuckled.  “Because it’s all true.”  

“So, do you think we are doing this right?” Tali asked.  “This first date thing?”

“I think we’re nailing it, so far,” said Shepard.  “But I just had an idea.”  He nodded at a point over her shoulder.  “You ever tried that?”

She turned to see what he was looking at.  There was a door behind the row of booths with another neon sign and an arrow.   _Private Karaoke Rooms._  

“No….?”

* * *

Shepard nodded goodbye to the back of the asari who had let them into the third room along the cramped hallway.  Tali had peered eagerly through the windows as they passed the first two rooms; in one, a volus seemed to be perfecting his dancing ability in front of a pair of bemused turian women, in the other a group of clearly drunk humans crowded around a single microphone with their arms slung over each other’s shoulders, apparently bellowing their hearts out.  Tali was glad the rooms were soundproofed.

Shepard let the door close behind the waitress, and settled down next to Tali on the cozy couch.  Lights in brilliant pink and purple played over the walls, catching in the rim of their freshly filled glasses on the table.  Everything was brightness and glitter and pop.  “So, karaoke.  There’s no quarian karaoke?”

“My translator’s having a little trouble with the definition,” said Tali.  “Something to do with singing?”  

“It’s singing along, kind of, but mostly you do it to make an ass of yourself,” said Shepard.  “There were a ton of karaoke bars in Chinatown, a lot of restaurants had them to try and make a little extra cash in selling drinks.  I did a lot of odd jobs out of the back of places like that, as a kid.” 

Tali tilted her head curiously.  “You never really mention where you grew up,” she said.  “Even when we were talking about growing up on the flotilla somehow you never seemed to say much about yourself.”

Shepard shrugged.  “There wasn’t much to say.  I was an orphan at five or six.  Bounced around a lot of foster homes in San Francisco, ran away from some shitty ones.  I wound up in Chinatown.  My mom was Chinese and I had a little Mandarin, enough to get by.”  He glanced at Tali.  “Do… quarians even have different races?  Nationalities?  Languages?”

“Once we did have many languages,” said Tali.  “Now we only have Khelish.  It is a beautiful language, but it’s a lonely one.”

“Maybe we’ll have to turn off our translators sometime,” said Shepard mischievously.  “I wonder what the difference between English and Mandarin sounds like to a quarian.  And what Khelish sounds like without a translator.”

“That’d be cheating,” said Tali.  “You already know what _bosh’tet_ means.”  She tried to stifle a snort and was only partially successful.  “Are Mandarin and English really that different?”

When Shepard stopped laughing, he said, “Yeeeeeah.  Yeah, they are.  That’s gonna be hilarious if we do that,” said Shepard.  “But anyway, Mandarin came in handy back then.  San Francisco was a tough place when I was a kid, after the tsunami.  There was a lot of crime, a lot of poverty.  I was in the Tenth Streeth Reds.  Nasty little gang.  The funniest part is that there wasn’t even a Tenth Street in Chinatown, before _or_ after the tsunami.”  His fingers tapped his omnitool, syncing it to the display set into the table in front of them.  “Someone’s idea of a joke.”

“It doesn’t sound very funny,” said Tali, sliding her hand onto his shoulder and squeezing it.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t know.”

“It’s mostly okay,” he said, kissing the back of her hand again.  “I try not to dwell on the bad parts.  But one of the things I liked was when I had a job in a place that had music.  Good music, bad music, Chinese, Japanese, American, I liked all of it.  Still do.  It’s always the first thing I download on a new omni-tool.”  He pulled up a list of songs on the display, scrolling rapidly through them.  “Now… do you want to go first, or should I?”

“You want me to sing?” Tali asked incredulously.  It wasn’t like she _never_ sang; of course, she had the entire soundtrack to Fleet and Flotilla memorized.  But she’d never sung in front of someone before.  “You’ll laugh.”

“That’s the point.  Karaoke isn’t supposed to be a concert hall performance,” teased Shepard.  “You can laugh when I do it, too.  I like music, and I play a little bit of it, but I’m not a great singer.”

“Well, perhaps I should be the judge of that,” said Tali.  “You go first.  I’ll find a song once I see how you do it.”

Shepard raised his glass and downed the rest of it, shaking his head.  “Whew.  That’s some good whiskey.  I’m gonna need it.”  He selected a song.  “Now this guy… you might like him.  He was born a few decades too early, but I think he would have absolutely approved of a human like me and a quarian like you being, ah, interested in each other.”

The lights in the room dimmed, and several small spinning balls descended from the ceiling, casting shimmering arrays of white light against the walls.  “It’s impressive,” Tali declared.

Shepard stood up, grabbing a flash-printed microphone from the table, and smoothed down the front of his suit jacket.  An omni-display in the table flashed a title at him.  “Okay.  You ready for this?”

A stringed electric instrument squealed out, immediately followed by Shepard crooning, “I’m an alligator… I’m a mama-papa coming for youuuu!”  He swayed dramatically, leaning over her with his gaze fixed upon her.

“What does that even mean –” Tali started, but he cut in with “I’m a space invader!  I’ll be a rock’n’rollin’ bitch for you!”  The utter earnestness in his eyes made her objections disappear.  This was a _show_ , and she was the only one getting to watch it, and it was _marvelous_.  Discreetly she queued up the video player on her omnitool as he sang on.  No way was she not saving this for later.

Shepard twirled in a circle, only stumbling a little as background vocals oohed, ushering him onward.  “Keep your electric eye on me, babe,” he bellowed, pointing quickly at his eyes, then hers, before forming his hand into a finger gun.  “Put your ray gun to my head…”  He dropped to his knees unexpectedly in front of her, his voice suddenly hushed.  “Press your space face close to mine, love,” he sang, nearly missing the beat on _love_ , and she felt an electricity that had nothing to do with old Earth songs.  He leapt back to his feet, roaring, “Freak out in a moonage daydream, ohhh yeah!”

Tali watched in rapt fascination, her mouth slightly open.  There was no embarrassment, no fumbling.  Anything awkward was instantly absorbed into the music.  He dazzled under the lights, and while she didn’t know what the singer sounded like originally, Shepard’s voice was rather nice, wavering only a little on the high notes, strong and rough and passionate on the lows.  He looked a different person, transformed from the Commander she knew into someone shining and shimmering, his body, his hands, his face, his mind all focused with a profound and silly perfection on the performance, and all of it for _her_.  

The chorus again.  He flung out a hand to her, and she took it, rising up and spinning into his embrace.  He caught her, brought the microphone down to the front of her helmet, and she stared at the lyrics blinking on the display before they sang together.

_Keep your electric eye on me, babe,_

_Put your ray gun to my head_

_Press your space face close to mine, love,_

_Freak out in a moonage daydream, ohhh yeah!_

* * *

Tali leaned against him in the back of the cab, yawning.  “What time is it?”

“I don’t know,” he said groggily.  “Too late.”

“Are we heading back to the Normandy now?”

“Yeah.  Nos Astra might not sleep, but I do,” he said, rubbing his eyes with one hand.  “Well?  How was everything?”

“We were _incredible_ ,” said Tali, bringing an arm around his waist.  She thrilled at the touch, the closeness.

“We’ll have to have another karaoke adventure again soon,” he murmured against her hood.  “Another date, right?  You and me - this works, doesn’t it?”  And he was back to a little awkward, a little shy again, and she thought her heart might burst from how she loved that about him.  But she also knew he was a complete diva in the karaoke booth, and that was wonderful, too.

“It does work,” she sighed.  “We work.  We always have, but… I really like this, Shepard.  I l-like you.”  She stumbled over her sentence, hoping he did not notice how she had nearly said a different word.

Suddenly she remembered something that might distract him, and herself, from words that were perhaps a little too heavy this early into things.  “You know, I wish the night didn’t have to end.”

“Ahh, me too,” he said, leaning his head against her helmet and drawing her close with one arm.  

“Perhaps,” Tali said, “the night could last forever.”  She keyed up her omnitool, and a tiny video projection began to play.

“You didn’t,” he gasped.

“I had to!” Tali insisted.  “For posterity!”

Shepard watched himself, a growing look of horror on his face, his tired eyes widening.  “I looked like _that_?”

“You did, and it was amazing,” she said matter-of-factly.  “You were _magnetic_.”

“If you say so,” he said, putting one hand over his mouth and shaking his head as he watched.  Suddenly the video shifted to selfie mode, and the two of them filled the screen, their tinny voices wailing together.  He glanced back at her, grinning.  “You’re right.  It _is_ amazing.  You’ve got to send me a copy of this.”

“What will you give me for it?” Tali asked, trying to act stoic instead of on the verge of giggling.

“Hm, I don’t know.  A billion kisses?” he said seriously, then immediately began kissing the edges of her helmet, the folds of her hood, her shoulders, all the way down one arm as she burst out with peals of laughter.

“Oh, come on, Shepard.  You do realize how much a billion is?  It would take you more than thirty years to come up with a billion kisses, assuming a second per kiss, with no sleep or any other activities.  I doubt even you could accomplish such a thing.”

“Come on, Tali,” Shepard said.  “I’m sure we can get there if we work hard at it together.”  He flashed a grin.  “I say, let’s see how far we get.”   He pulled away from her, holding out his hand.  “Deal?”

“It’s a deal,” she said, and his hand was firm and strong in hers, their handshake now smooth and practiced.  She wondered if she’d ever stop marvelling at the way it felt to hold his hand.  It was possible, she supposed – if they were to touch hands day after day, year after year, if they beat all the obstacles besetting them, if they kept deciding that they worked together, if they grew old together in a peaceful galaxy.  Maybe then, after so long, his touch would be commonplace, expected, taken for granted.  Maybe then, she’d have had enough of him.

But Tali gazed at him, his soft smile, his warm eyes, the stubble lining his cheeks and chin, the now-rumpled suit collar brushing the edges of his throat, the way his hand folded over hers.  And she knew a billion kisses, a million touches, would still never be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. More than once I have been amazed at the beauty a person suddenly develops when they go from being just your friend or relative who's talking normally, to a musician -- the way their entire physicality changes, the way they give themselves over to the music and suddenly your friend disappears and there's just a beautiful human being creating music. I find it more profound when an instrument is being played than singing, but it's really something to see. Had to say something about it.
> 
> 2\. Enjoy the made-up quarian word, hope it's not awful, heh.
> 
> 3\. You all know David Bowie would absolutely be about human-alien relationships. He was clearly the product of one, after all. XD


End file.
